


Good Fences Make for Boring Neighbors

by Unforth



Series: Prompt Ficlets: Supernatural [82]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Castiel and Jimmy Novak are Twins, Dean Thinks the Voyeurism is Non-Consensual, M/M, The Twins Aren't as Stupid as Dean Thinks, Twincest, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 05:11:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14805002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth
Summary: Ficlet written to the prompt: Dean realizes his twin neighbors, Cas and Jimmy, are doing the do, because they're super-loud, or they don't shut their windows, or the duct work happens to serve as speaking tubes... you get the idea. He anonymously drops them a note to tell them they're hot and they decide to put on a show for their admirer.





	Good Fences Make for Boring Neighbors

**Author's Note:**

> ...it's honestly a coincidence that I ended up writing two DCJ voyeurism prompts in a row, it just happened to be the order the prompts were in on my list. :)

There weren’t enough nails in the  _ universe _ for the magnitude of Dean’s problem. Grumbling under his breath, he threw aside the box he’d finished and eyed the fifteen feet of fence he had yet to repair. The wood was in decent shape but the fuckstick who’d owned the house before him had used the tiniest, flimsiest staples and they’d rusted to dust under the previous year’s onslaught of storms. Repairing it was boring and annoying and messy and Dean was loathe to return to Home Depot for the fourth time that day. Maybe...maybe he’d repaired it enough to serve his purposes?

Stepping back, he positioned himself by his bedroom window and peered toward his neighbors’ house. The Novaks were at work but even in their absence Dean could see the ghosts of them entwined passionately on their bed through the uncurtained bedroom window.

Was it wrong to fantasize about having sex with his hot twin neighbors? Was it wrong to fantasize about them having sex with each other  _ when he knew they did _ , and fricken  _ regularly _ ?

Intellectually, it felt wrong.

Physically, it felt so, so,  _ so  _ right. 

Fuck, he’d better go back to Home Depot.

He obsessed over blocking the view during the drive, as he’d obsessed over it for days. Surely the twins knew that Dean could see into their bedroom, as could several other neighbors. For better or for worse, Dean would soon lose that privilege...but the others? How many other creepers watched the two gorgeous brothers going at each other? Dean felt like the king of pervs for staring through his window, and while he had no claim on them, he couldn’t bear the thought that they were under the scrutiny of  _ other  _ pervs, too. At least Dean had the decency to take it upon himself to eliminate the delicious view. What if some of the other neighbors lacked Dean’s chivalry?

_ Don’t strain anything patting yourself on the back, Winchester...you’ve been staring at them for six months and are only  _ now  _ taking action.  _

_...but it was winter, and cold, and snowy, how was I supposed to build a fence in that kind of weather? _

_ Excuses, excuses. This must be some new and fuckin’ stupid use of the word ‘chivalry’ I’ve not encountered before. _

Dean picked out the jumbo box of nails, far more than he needed, and bought some wood glue for good measure, hoping to avoid yet another trip to the hardware store. 

Chivalry wasn’t merely nipping his own voyeuristic tendencies in the butt.

The twins needed to be informed that they were under observation.

Returning to his car, Dean sifted through the jumble in his glove compartment until he found a pen and a serviceable piece of paper. 

“You two are hot as hell when you fuck but you should get curtains. Half the block can see you.”

Dean stared at the note.

Shit, his handwriting was distinctive.

He ripped the note up, scrounged another sheet, and rewrote it in large, nondescript block letters.

Satisfied, he drove home, paused long enough to stuff the note in their mailbox, and went back to his place.

Fifteen feet of fence to go…

* * *

Exhausted, Dean slumped sweaty and gross on his sofa. He should get up and take a shower, change out of his sopping clothes, slap a bandaid on rip an errant splinter had torn in his forearm, but moving sounded too much like work.

His stomach rumbled.

Dinner sounded like work, too.

Sliding more than leaning forward, Dean picked his cell phone up from the coffee table. His pointer fingers were so grubby with dirt and the gunk that rubbed off the nails that the touch screen wouldn’t respond, so he navigated to Dominos webpage with his middle fingers. At least no one was there to see him flipping his phone the bird as he placed his order. Pizza sounded a bit nauseating after how much work he’d done, but it was cheap and would be delivered to his door, and he was hungry, so.

The TV flickered through a sequence of commercials. An arrogant douche bag got eliminated in Chopped. More commercials. The remaining chefs opened their mystery boxes and--

There was a knock on the door.

Dominos was also  _ quick _ . 

Awesome. 

With a groan, Dean forced aching muscles and stiff joints into motion. He felt like a doddard as he made his way to the door and pulled it open, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

“How much do I owe ya?”

“Now  _ there’s  _ a prospect we hadn’t considered,” said a deep voice thoughtfully. “We could charge for the privilege.”

Dean jerked his head up.

No pizza delivery dude or dudette.

The fucking Novak twins were standing on Dean’s goddamn porch, handsome as sin in matching suits, matching haircuts, matching intense stares. The only difference between the two were their ties - one blue, one green - and damn if Dean didn’t have a fricken clue which one was James and which one was Castiel.

“More cash is always good,” agreed the second, identical voice. “I guess it depends, Dean. What are our...services...worth to you?”

_ A whole heck of lot _ .

Damn if the whole “not sure who is who” hot dudes in suit vibes wasn’t doing all kinds of wrong things to Dean’s brain.

“Fuck,” Dean mumbled.

_ Focus, focus, say hello, invite them in, act like a fricken human instead of a teenage horn dog. _

“That is one service we provide, yes,” said whichever brother had spoken first.

“But only if the price is right.”

“Uh…” Dean shook his head. They didn’t know - couldn’t know - what was going through his head, couldn’t know he’d left the note. But if he didn’t start using his damn words and behaving sensibly, it wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. “What are you talking about?”

_ Are they rocket scientists? Fuck, what are their professions? _

_ Escorts, probably, in those suits, and talking about pimping themselves out for my pizza money… _

“We’re talking about the note you left us,” said Novak-2. Novak-1 pulled the crumpled paper from his pocket.

“I didn’t leave a note.” And to think Dean once believed himself a good liar.

Novak-1 cleared his throat. “You are fucking hot when you’re having sex, but maybe you should consider getting curtains? Half the neighborhood can see you.” He spoke weirdly, voice pitched high and mocking and weirdly imitative of someone, almost as if…

_ Oh, you son of a bitch _ . “I don’t sound like that,” Dean grumbled. “And I didn’t write that,” he added hastily.

“Yes you did.”

“Did not.”

“No one  _ else  _ watches us have sex.”

“I didn’t write a letter!”

“And you won’t be watching us any longer, either, now that your fence is rebuilt.”

“Which begs the question - why build the fence, and why the note?”

“That’s two questions, brother.”

“Good point. That begs  _ two  _ questions. Dean, why did you rebuild your fence?”

“First nice weather we’ve had this spring,” Dean offered lamely. “Necessary maintenance.”

“You didn’t seem to think so last fall,” said Novak-2.

_ Last fall I didn’t know you two were more prolific than the average bunny warren. _

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind.”

“And why did you leave the note?”

“I  _ didn’t write that damn note _ .”

“You absolutely, positively did.”

“Says you,” spluttered Dean.

Novak-1 gestured at Dean. Confused, he quirked his head, and Novak-2 took a step back from his door and matched Novak-1’s gesture, suggesting that Dean stand where Novak-2 had been standing.

Novak-1 pulled Dean’s door shut.

A sign mounted on the door, in large, block letters, read “No Soliciting.” Novak-1 held Dean’s handwritten note beside it and smirked at Dean.

“Busted!” chirped Novak-2.

“Why did you write the note, Dean?”

“It’s not right,” he admitted with a sigh. The twins started, exchanged hurt looks, and the humor that had lent them warm smiles faded. They’d only suspected Dean was a schmuck before. Now that they knew for certain…well, in for a penny, in for a pound. “I shouldn’t be watching you. And neither should anyone else. What you do in private is your business, not mine.” The twins blinked at him. “And, ya know, I was worried you didn’t realize how good visiblity is, ‘specially at night when your lights are on.” They blinked at him again. “I just...thought it was the right thing to do.” They exchanged a look and returned their gazes to him. “Ya know, it’s really freaky when you do that whole twin ESP thing.” They stared. “Would ya just stop already?”

“Yeah...okay…” said Novak-2.

“You...were worried about us?” Novak-1 said, speaking as if he had no idea what the words meant.

“Uh...duh? Who wouldn’t be? What’d you think this was about?”

“For a moment I thought it was about you being all uppity about male twins having sex with each other,” Novak-1 said. Novak-2 nodded agreement.

“What you do in your bedroom is your business.”

“What if we do it in your bedroom?” Novak-1’s thoughtful tone was back.

“What?!”

“No one else was watching us,” said Novak-2. “But we knew you were.”

“You  _ knew _ ?”

“Dean, what did you just say to us?”

“Uh...fuck…” What  _ had  _ Dean just said?

“Lack of curtains and backlighting at night aren’t conducive to keeping certain secrets. We saw you, doofus.”

“...oh.”

“Then you went and built that fence. Now what are we supposed to do?” asked Novak-2 in despair.

Dean stared blankly. They couldn’t be implying what he thought they were implying.

“Hence my suggestion that we move our activities to  _ your  _ bedroom,” clarified Novak-1.

“But only if you promise to watch us very, very closely.”

They were implying  _ exactly  _ what Dean thought they were implying.

“Look, did someone order a pizza?” exclaimed an exasperated voice from Dean’s porch stairs.

Faster than Dean would have thought possible, Novak-1 had the pizza, Novak-2 had handed twenty bucks over, and both were shoving Dean into his house.

“I’m so confused,” Dean confessed as Novak-2 shut and locked the door behind the three of them.

“We  _ are  _ moving a little quickly,” acknowledged Novak-1. “Dean, if you’re not actually okay with any of this, please speak up.”

Dean shook his head.

“Then what are you confused about?”

“Which of you is Castiel, and which is James?”

The twins broke into identical, sinful smiles. “That’s an excellent question. How about a game? You learn which of us is  _ Cas _ , and which is  _ Jimmy _ , and we reward you--”

“--amply--”

“--and if you don’t, we tease you just enough to get you all hot and bothered and then return to our place for the end show.”

“If you want.”

_ God, they’re gorgeous, they’re smart, they’re interested in me, they’re buying me pizza, they’re asking my consent...if they leave now it’ll fuckin’ kill me. _

_ I spent all day on that fucking fence but God help me if they go home to fuck without me watching I’ll rip every damn post out of the ground by hand if I have to. _

“I’m in.”

“Awesome.”

“It’s gonna be a hell of a night.”

“I can’t wait,” Dean said with a warm smile, and damn if he didn’t  _ bask  _ in the smiles he got in return.

Life was about to get interesting and truly, Dean  _ couldn’t  _ wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr at [unforth-ninawaters.](http://unforth-ninawaters.tumblr.com)


End file.
